


SuperLock: The Reichenbach Four

by storytellerondvd



Category: Sherlock (TV), Superlock - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:33:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerondvd/pseuds/storytellerondvd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are on their way to another case when Sam discovers another one of their father's client phones. On it there's a missed call from an old friend of John Winchester, Dr. Watson who needs help with a problem of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Another Vision

**Author's Note:**

> For those reading and who follow both series I have this taking place at a simultaneous time in both universes (or in this story, the single universe). In this story the Supernatural universe would be somewhere mid to late in season 2. Some point after Sam and Dean meet Andy. In the Sherlock universe this takes place towards the end of the six months preceding Moriarty’s trial. 
> 
> A few things to note about myself. I have never used this website before nor written any other fictions (though I do RP occasionally). I plan on having a chapter written once a week (posting on Friday's).

Two men stood on a roof as a bustling city thrived around them. One of them, a tall slender man in a long dark coat and a blue scarf, paces back and forth. The other, a man in an expensive suit and business coat, stands still, arms behind his back with a confident smile on as he watches the pacing. They speak back and forth but their words can’t be heard.

            The tall man suddenly grabs the shorter and dangles him over the edge, staring at him full of anger.  The man in the suit continues to speak with a smirk on his face despite being hung over the edge of a roof. The taller man pulls him back on and releases him with a slight shove.  The tall, slender man continues to look more worried as the conversation went on. A feeling of insurmountable stress and surprise grew in him as he stepped out onto the ledge and looked down onto the street, stories below. His body braced itself for a fall it hadn’t taken.           

Suddenly the feelings of what had now become panic flooded away as hope replaced it. With his extremities shivering, he began to laugh and hopped back toward the man in the suit. With the smile now on the tall man’s face having been wiped away from the other, they continued their muffled conversation. Though not a word of it could be heard, anyone who had been watching could tell at an instant that whatever events were taking place could be referred to as no less than colossal. The two stood nearly chest to chest as the man in the suit extended his hand. They shook and suddenly the tall man recoiled back as a look of shock and horror shot over his face. He put a hand to his mouth and looked out on the cityscape.

Slowly, he stepped onto the ledge and pulled out his phone. After fiddling with it, he tossed it to the side, breaking it on impact. He spread out both of his arms and stepped off. The shorter suited man turned to leave with a dark smirk on his face. As the slender man fell, many thoughts crossed his mind; the events that had just taken place, previous experiences and a very small handful of people he knew. Though falling that far would put anyone’s body into a panic, he took a short breath and closed his eyes. His heart slowed just before the end. Darkness quickly replaced any sensory input for a brief moment as Sam Winchester shot out of bed with a gasp, head covered in sweat and heart racing.

This was clearly another psychic vision and although they had been coming more often and with more intensity, none of them even approached what he just experienced. All Sam could think about was waking up Dean so they could figure this whole thing out. As usual he had no idea of when this event was going to happen and even worse, he didn’t know where. Not only that, but he couldn’t hear a word they said. Sam snuck to the bathroom, washed his face in cold water and sighed. Luckily they had no jobs at the moment. Once Dean woke up he’d tell him the whole thing over breakfast.

He quietly stepped back into the room and glanced at the clock, seeing that is was only 4:00 AM. He applied pressure to the bridge of his nose and rubbed his inner eyes of crust.  Staring at the clock with a pathetic look on his face, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore. Sam shuffled over to his bag, got out his laptop and began to do research on possible locations based on what little he saw in his vision.

…

Dean awoke sometime later to find Sam on his laptop like usual. Though he was getting used to waking up and finding his brother working on something, he never liked it. Generally it meant another sleepless night from another vision. Even so, he asked every time, hopeful there was another reason.

“What are you doing up?” Dean asked groggily, rubbing his eyes and swinging his feet over the side of the bed.

“Uh, not much. I haven’t been up long. Mostly just looking for jobs,” replied Sam scanning the articles on his computer. At some point between when he sat down and now, he grew tired of trying to do research on something he had no lead on and began just looking for work.

Dean went into the bathroom and splashed water over his face. He was already dressed, having slept in his clothes like he always did.  “So did you find anything interesting?” he asked sitting down to put his shoes on.

“A few hits. Let’s see….” Sam replied, skimming over what he found, “A man was robbed and beaten, and when asked who did it he swore it was a clone of himself.” He continued with a scoff, “And get this. A woman claims her friend vanished into thin air. The only trace was her jacket hanging from a statue.” He leaned back in his seat having given the only two reports he thought could be something. Though it wasn’t a bad thing, jobs were becoming scarcer. Sam always had this hope that the world would eventually run out of things to hunt, though he usually doubted they’d live to see such an event.

“Alright I’ll take the disappearance. The dude probably just doesn’t want to admit he got jumped by a chick,” Dean chuckled as he finished tying the last lace on his boot.

“Wanna grab some food first? I’ll buy,” Sam offered.  He figured Dean might be a bit more open to hear about his vision after a plate of grease and dead animal. If he was, he might even be able to help.

“Sure, get your things and let’s go,” Dean replied, shoving his things into his bag.

…

The brothers sat in a local diner staring at their menus. Sam thought more on his vision, the compulsive feeling to do something about it swelling inside him. They gave their order to the waitress and sat for a moment without saying a thing, focused on their coffee.

“So tell me more about this case,” Dean prompted, setting his cup down.

Sam drank from his mug and explained, “There wasn’t a whole lot in the report. Two girls were checking out some abandoned house and one of them up and vanished in the blink of an eye.”

“And all they have is her coat?” asked Dean.

“Yea, it was hanging in the statue’s hand,” Sam responded.

 

They were brought their food and Dean dug into his plate while Sam took a few bites and pushed his food around, trying to find the right phrasing when talking about his vision. This one was far more intense after all, which might mean whatever was going on was getting worse. “I had another one of my visions last night.” He stated quickly, and then chastised himself in his head for taking such a blunt approach.

Dean, lowering the fork full of food away from his still open mouth, asked, “Oh really? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

“Because you always get upset whenever it happens like it’s my fault!” Sam snapped.

Dean set his fork down on his plate and thought about all their previous encounters that Sam’s visions brought on before responding. “Alright, I’m sorry. It just makes me nervous. We don’t know why you have them or what causes them. The demon is a part of it, that’s all we got! I still want you to tell me when this stuff happens so we can figure it out. Why didn’t you bring it up sooner though? The last time it happened we drove through the night.”

“I didn’t see anything I could use to figure out where or when it was going to happen,” replied Sam.

“Alright, well run me through it,” Dean exclaimed, grabbing his fork again and shoving it, and all the food on it, into his mouth.

Sam went over all the events he saw unfold while eating. Having finished his food and recount of the vision, he waited hopefully for Dean to give some insight he might have missed or ask a question he hadn’t thought of. Sadly, he had no further help.

  
“Well I guess we keep looking into it, but in the mean time we have a case,” Dean reminded him, laying down money for a bill and handing Sam the keys to the Impala.

After leaving the diner they got into their car and headed for the nearest highway. After about an hour of driving Sam felt the seat under him buzz. He tried to reach for it but couldn’t without having to pull over. With his arm shoved all the way under the driver’s seat, he found a small slit in the underside of the cushion. He slipped his hand in and pulled out an old looking flip phone with, ‘Missed Call’ and ‘New Message’ displaying on the screen. Sam, looking puzzled, turned to Dean and asked, “Do you know anything about this?”

Dean scoffed despite the frown on his face and responded, “No, I thought dad kept all of his phones in the glove box. How long do you think that’s even been there?”

Turning it over trying to figure out more about the phone itself, Sam murmured, “I don’t know.”

He flipped it open looking at the number. It was far longer than any number that would come from the US. “It’s an international number. Maybe dad used it for cases outside the country?” Sam reasoned.

He played the message and set the phone on speaker placing it down on the dash.

“Hello, John? It’s John Watson; we were in that international training unit together. I know it’s been a long time since we last spoke and to be honest I doubted this number would still work. I’m back in London and got a flat mate and everything. You told me to call if I ever needed help with something I couldn’t deal with, which at the time I had no idea what you meant but….” The voice trailed off and a sigh could be heard. “Look I don’t expect much from this call and you basically already saved my life once but people might die and I need help.  Just phone me if you get the chance.” The message suddenly stopped with a click.

The brothers both looked at each other before Sam spoke up, “So what do you think? Want to see if Bobby knows anyone in that area?”

Dean shrugged slightly in thought and answered, “As much as I hate to say it, I think we need to go.”

Sam, in shock, scoffed, “Go!? You want to go all the way to London to help some guy dad once knew?!”

“They both served. You know what that always meant to dad,” Dean quickly snapped.

Sam shook his head but agreed, “Fine. I’m sure bobby knows someone who owes him a favor that can get us a flight there. You going to be ok to fly?” he asked in a slightly mocking tone.

“I’ll be fine!” Dean retorted defensively. “Alright, I’ll call bobby and you _phone_ back the guy.” Dean instructed, reaching for one of the many cell phones they kept in the car. “The guy sounded a bit confused. Find out if this is even our sort of thing,” He stated before dialing Bobby’s number.

Sam hit the redial on the old flip phone and waited for an answer.  After a few rings there was a click and a response.

“Hello? John is that you?” A hopeful voice answered on the other end.

“Uhh, no. This is his son, Sam Winchester. I’m sorry, but John actually died awhile back.”

There was a pause before John responded, “God, I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

“My brother Dean and I got your message though and we may be able to help. Now, you said that people might die?” inquired Sam.

“I don’t know, I mean no offence but it might be a bit over your head. Plus, would you be able to make it all the way to London? Last time I checked John lived in the states,” the other pointed out.

Sam tilted the phone down and looked at Dean to see how a potential flight was coming. Dean looked back over and gave a thumbs-up. He lifted the phone back to his mouth and insisted, “We already have a flight waiting for us. Now, why don’t you run me through the whole thing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This didn't work out like I planned! I originally said one chapter a week which isn't what ended up happening! To all those who have actually been waiting the next chapter is already done and will be posted in about a week to give me time to finish the one after! Thank you to all who have read this far.

               The conversation between Sam and Doctor Watson went on for longer than either of them expected. They spoke about the problem at hand and how the brother’s father knew the doctor. It turned out that doctor Watson had spoken with John Winchester only a few years ago when he was updating his phone contacts.

               ”He called a while back out of the blue. John told me he had gotten a new phone and was just checking all his old numbers. Last I heard he was taking the odd case here and there,” the doctor explained.

                The two got along great and the call only came to an end when John had to go to bed.

                Sam hung up the cell placing it on the dash. “Alright, well good news and bad news,” he said giving a half sigh. “The good news is John says he has a place we can stay. The bad news is this isn’t the type of case we usually handle,” he explained. 

               “What, some angry spirit that only comes out during tea time?” Dean childishly joked, chuckling and very satisfied with himself. 

               Sam gave a mild chuckle out of courtesy and corrected him, “Uhh no, no spirits or demons. In fact nothing supernatural at all. Just a problem with some criminal from a previous case.”

                “Not exactly our department. What’s the plan then?” Dean questioned.

               “I’m not sure, it sounds like to put him away we’ll need proof of this guy’s crimes. Look Dean, to be honest I know this isn’t what we usually do, but if we can research and hunt creatures from thousand year old lore, digging up dirt on some criminal should be a piece of cake,” Sam pointed out.  Dean nodded with a shrug in agreement. “So Bobby set us up with plane tickets?” Sam inquired.

               “Even better, there’s a private charter landing in Boston in the next few hours. If we hurry they’ll take us for free on their way back to London. Bobby had to call in a favor for the ride but we can stay as long as we need and it’s all taken care of,” Dean said as if he did the set up work himself.

               They continued on until they reached the Boston airport some hours later. By the time they found the private terminal the aircraft had long landed.  The plane was nothing special but the brothers were used to simple things. Two men dressed in pilot’s outfits climbed the stairs into the plane as they argued about something in thick English accents. Meanwhile a young brightly smiling man in uniform approached them. “Good afternoon chaps! I will be your steward on the flight today. Could myself help either of yourselves with any baggage or the re-positioning your motor vehicle from its current place?” asked the chipper man.

               The brothers glanced at each other in a bit of confusion before Dean replied, “No padre’ we’re good. And the dude in the office back there said we could park her here until we got back.”

               “Well you can, but it’s not going to be much good to you with it sitting here and you… all the way where you’re going,” replied the young man, stumbling on his words either because he gave too much attention to figuring out the whole situation and forgot to continue speaking, or he was still figuring out which words to use mid-sentence.

               “Wait, are you suggesting I _bring_ my car?” Dean asked aggressively before giving the thought a moment in his head. “So how are going to move the car onto the plane?” He continued.

               “Dean!” Sam snapped.

               “Well, we can open the cargo doors and you can drive it right in. I’d be more than happy to help if you needed. I’m a great driver and that car looks brilliant!” the steward interjected.

               Dean narrowed his eyes just a bit and replied “No, no,” as a false friendly chuckle followed, “No… I... I’ll pull it in just get the doors open.” Turning to Sam, “Why don’t you go grab our seats Sammy, I just gotta get my baby on the plane,” he instructed with a boyish excitement in his voice.  Dean smacked his brother on the back and jogged back to the Impala.

               Sam was led into the plane where he had his choice of the seats. He chose one over the wing for his brother’s sake. After a few minutes Dean joined him and settled from mild panic to a low nervousness once takeoff was finished.  It felt odd for the brothers to be traveling so far without one of them at the wheel. By the time they began to land it was morning again and both of them slept the majority of the flight.

                When they got off the plane Dean unloaded the impala while Sam called Dr. Watson to let him know of their arrival. He hung the phone up as soon as he got in the car and directed Dean to a nearby waiting lot. As they pulled up they saw a man in a black jacket and button up shirt, with short blond hair and an uncomfortable expression on his face. They got out of the car with Sam taking the lead on introductions. As they shook hands they individually noticed each other’s height, the brothers more than towering over the army doctor.

               “So we didn’t exactly fly first class and it’s been a while since either of us had anything to eat. I don’t suppose you know a good place we could get some breakfast?”  Dean asked.

               “Actually, I might be in a bit of a rush. I got a call on my way over here. There’s a case I have to get to. You can come if you’d like, I doubt it’ll take long.”  John answered very casually.

               Sam and Dean gave a surprised glance at each other.  Dean turned back to John and replied, “Like a hunt?”

               “If that’s what you call it.…” John said a little confused.  “Well I had planned on taking a cab but I guess you brought your car,” he continued.

Dean turned around to glance at his car before responding. “Yeah, we were trying to pack light but I figured, what the hell!” he said with a smile on his face.  “Come on, you can show us where it is and afterwards we can grab food,” Dean commented, getting back in his car. 

John directed Dean through the city to the scene. Half way through the trip John got a text. He said nothing about it, just gave a soft sigh as he quickly replied. When they got there Dr. Watson took the lead and began to chat to a young, dark skinned girl with frizzy hair on the other side of the police tape. Sam quickly stopped Dean on the walk over. “Crap! Dean, how are we getting into this? We don’t exactly have phony Scotland Yard IDs. Not only that but we’re not even _dressed_ like we belong here!”

Dean rolled his eyes as the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Son of a bitch. Look, maybe we can say we live in the building or-“ he started to reason before he was cut off by John calling out to them.

  
                “Were you boys coming?” he shouted with his hand lifting the 'DO NOT CROSS' tape.

The brothers awkwardly moved towards John. They both ducked under the tape and continued on inside the flat. The group climbed a small staircase to the second floor past many officers and investigators. Both brothers felt at end in a crime scene without proper attire and phony credentials, although very few people even gave them a glance.  The three entered a large, well-furnished front room and were directed down a hallway to a dim spacious office. Behind the desk a man in a very nice suit sat with a bullet hole in his head. On further approach they could see a gun in his hand resting on the desk.

                “Doctor Watson, there you are. And who are these two?!” said a man in a dark coat with greying hair.  He stood next to a man with dark curls, dressed in a similar fashion which caused both brothers to assume they were investigators.

               “I’m sorry, but I was just picking them up from the airport when I got the call,” John explained.

               “Look, just don’t make a habit out of this. First he starts bringing you, now you bring them and pretty soon I’ll have a whole flood of people who don’t belong here! If any of you still remember I’m not even supposed to be bringing him in on these,“ complained the man. “Sorry boys, nothing personal. Greg Lestrade, Detective Inspector,” Greg continued, extending his hand to the Winchesters.

               “Sam…Winchester,” Sam stated shaking Greg’s hand.

               “Dean,” Dean followed.

               “Nice to meet the two of you. Now Sherlock, are you sure? I know what it looks like but this man was extremely well known. Very likely that _someone_ would’ve wanted him dead,” Greg questioned the man he called “Sherlock”, opposite him.

               “Quite sure inspector,” Sherlock said nonchalantly and dismissively.

               “Sorry, you said he was well known. Who was he?” John inquired. The corpses head was leaning back and with all the blood it was hard to see at the distance they were.

               “He was an international motivational speaker. He wrote a few books, all best sellers. That’s why it’s hard to believe that someone who was not only this successful but who also talked others into being happy, would kill himself. On top of all of that, he’s supposed to be in America right now on some book tour. Nobody’s sure how he even got here,” Greg stated.

               John and the brothers all nodded or mildly shrugged in agreement.  Dean took a step to create a small huddle away from Greg and Sherlock.

               “So what are we thinking? Just a simple demon possession or something else because I hear that you guys have a few things we don’t back home,” Dean asked quietly.

               Sam started to shrug. He turned to see John’s face was nothing but utter confusion.  “Sorry, what? Is that some running gag that I’m not in on?” queried John.

               The Winchesters now stood with a look of confusion that nearly mirrored John’s just moments ago. Sam quickly covered. “No you know, like personal demons. Drinking, drugs, anything like that.”

               “Oh! Oh right, sorry!” John said half chuckling at what he presumed was his massive misunderstanding. “Inspector, did he drink or anything else?” John offered his question to Greg, more as thinking aloud.

               “Not publicly no, and there’s no evidence of that here,” the inspector stated.

               “As I said Inspector, simple suicide however unlikely it may seem to you, is the case,“ Sherlock exclaimed.

               Sherlock strode out of the room with John following shortly after. The brothers followed them both out along with Detective Inspector Lestrade. “Kind of ironic isn’t it? A man who spends his life helping people and cheering them up ends up doing himself in,” Lestrade mildly joked to the brothers on their way out.

               Sherlock and John were already outside of the flat and down the street a bit. “I know you’re upset Sherlock but-“John began.

               “About which part John? The fact you’re bringing in complete strangers to help or that you think I need help at all?” Sherlock interrupted.

               “They say they’re very skilled at tracking people. Maybe they could help us find him. At the very least we can bounce ideas off of them,” John offered.

               “I don’t _bounce_ ideas off of people,” Sherlock insisted in a harsh tone.

               “Then what do you keep me around for?” John questioned.

               Sherlock, having no response, stood silent for a moment. Any argument he could make would either be far more heated than necessary or invalid. Knowing he had lost the argument he stated flatly, “I’ll have Mrs. Hudson prepare the flat below hers. “

               “Perfect. I’ll let them know. Now come on, we’re grabbing a quick bite. You can come along and show off if you’d like,” Doctor Watson replied. John was surprised that Sherlock hadn’t put up more of a fuss but tried not to question when he acted like a regular adult. 


End file.
